


Luck's got nothing to do with it

by ApocalypseThen



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Accidental Incest, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 01:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8082067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypseThen/pseuds/ApocalypseThen
Summary: Zaeed gets his mind blown by the fresh-faced woman who picks him up in a bar on Omega.





	

She comes at him like she knows exactly what she wants. Zaeed likes that. He uses his glass eye to give the impression that his attention is elsewhere, taking in the rhythmic convulsions of the dancers behind the bar. When she reaches him he feigns indifference. It's a tactic that's worked well for him in the past.

"Buy you a drink?" she says.

Zaeed has never turned down that particular proposal. He eyes her while she signals the bartender. Her jive is efficient and clear, her muscles popping whipcord tight to punctuate the gestures with a flourish. She's all heat and no flash, a compact frame that puts her a head shorter than he is, and she's had military training. He can tell from her moves. She could just as easily be ordering her squad to cover as she could be ordering a brace of whiskies.

A serious drinker. Another good sign. Zaeed waits patiently. He doesn't get the feeling that she's interested in conversation at the moment. She knocks back her drink and looks up at him with wet lips. It's not quite a smile that's creasing her cheeks, but it's related to one. He studies her face. He's not especially picky when it comes to women, but she isn't his usual type. His usual type is paid for, and he isn't ashamed of that, but there are occasionally volunteers. If nothing else, his scarred and haggard face is a declaration of experience.

A perfect match for innocence. He revises his estimate of her age down a few years. She might be fit and well trained, but her skin's as smooth as the proverbial alabaster. Her canny expression was probably picked up from a vid. Kids today. Still, she's surely on the right side of legal. And there's something in there, locked in behind the smirk, some spark that intrigues him. Like an animal on a leash. He thinks he might like to see it run free.

He lifts his glass to his lips and drains it. She's already two steps away by the time he puts his glass down on the bar. She doesn't look back. Whoever she is, she's got his number. He may be a paranoid old war horse, but he's got chinks in his armor the same as anyone else. It doesn't feel like a trap, but it never does. In any case, the last time someone tried the honey trap on him he was laughing all the way to the body bank. This feels perfectly transactional, well inside his comfort zone.

Turning all this over in his head means that her ass has been getting further away. And it is a fine specimen. He can practically name the major muscles of her legs by the creases they leave in her tight pants. He levers himself off the bar and follows. He stays a good twenty paces behind her. She walks taller than she is. Unconsciously or not, the crowd leaves a space around her. She heads in the direction of a more reputably disreputable lodging house. The kind of place you can rent rooms by the hour. Classy by the standards of Omega, where having your own four walls makes you practically an aristocrat.

She doesn't spare him a single glance backwards. Zaeed feels a stirring of interest in his gut. His loins are another matter, never been any trouble there, but his gut rarely gets in on the action. He wants her. She doesn't swing her hips like a hooker, she's not going to tease him and make him wait. He's fairly sure he's going to be hanging on by the skin of his teeth.

He loses sight of her at a stairwell but mercenary rationale leads him to the second-to-last floor and the door next to the emergency stairs. The same tactical choice he would make. It's propped open and she's waiting inside. He steps in and closes the door behind him. Her first move is to arm a small portable defense system to cover the door. A woman after his own heart. Zaeed unslings his shotgun and syncs it to his omnitool's watchdog protocol. After taking a turn on its stand to map out the room it zeroes in on the door. A fraction of a turn and it can wipe out her little turret as well, should this turn out to be a ruse after all.

Zaeed can never truly be uninhibited, not even with the best precautions. His list of enemies is so long by now that there's always someone with pockets deeper than his own, who can afford better counter-counter-measures. He's been mulling over an offer from Cerberus. He's seen the pattern. His intelligence resources and network of old cronies have kept him ahead of the game, but he just keeps outliving them, one after another. Cerberus is offering serious fuck-you money, as well as the chance to extract the biggest festering thorn in his side. He knows that one day someone good enough will catch up to him. Putting that day off as long as possible is nothing to sneer at. The major downside is the suicidal nature of the proposal. He's not quite ready for that yet.

She's undressing. Black suits her, her thinks. Her underwear looks like it might be bulletproof and that has him as hard as a bar in no time flat. "No lace?" he asks dryly. "No frills?"

She doesn't reply, but her cheeks color a little. She stands in front of him, hands on her hips, and waits. He unclips his hardshell and flings it in the corner, then he closes the gap between them in two of his giant loping strides. She doesn't flinch as he picks her up by the waist and tosses her down on her back. She's hot and tense where he touches her.

Her underpants are too well made to tear, so he just peels them down to her knees. She props herself up on her elbows to watch him work. He watches the muscles of her stomach twitch and he realises how badly she wants it. He puts a hand between her breasts and pushes her flat on the bed. Her arms flop out to the sides and she draws a rasping, needy breath.

Zaeed wastes no more time. He puts his mouth over her sex, locking his lips around her mound. A brush of fine curls tickles his nose but he doesn't care. She quivers and wriggles her legs, trying to work her panties down further to give him better access. He puts a stop to that by using his other hand to grasp her ankles. He wants to keep her squeezed together, she'll be tighter.

But his tongue encounters the tightest opening he's had the pleasure of in a long while, at least in a human. So tight that... "First time for you, love?" he asks, letting the wonder creep into his voice.

"It's..." she gasps, as he licks at her hymen with the tip of his tongue, "a long story."

Normally he gets a girl good and ready before he introduces them to his dick, but he can't wait any longer to fuck her. And she seems fit to burst already. His chin is wet with her. Indeed, it's scant seconds after he's fully inside her that she has her first orgasm. He's impressed at how methodically she takes the pain and then amazed at how quickly she falls over the edge. It's like she knew just what to expect, a fact at odds with her unspoilt condition. Her nose wrinkles up to match her brow, the tendons of her neck tighten and her lips purse closed. He feels her clamp even tighter around his dick, then she makes little nodding movements with her head as her internal muscles pulse and throb. He hasn't made a woman come like that in a long time.

She seems to enjoy being pummelled by his weight, but she won't let him pin her wrists. He can live with that. He settles into a slow rhythm of powerful, crushing thrusts, trying to squeeze the breath out of her for longer each time. She has a hand at his neck, her little thumb poised on his Adam's apple, applying pressure lightly as if to tell him she can take more, much more.

Next time he's balls deep in her, Zaeed rolls and stands, taking her with him. She's light enough that he can carry her easily. He slams her back against the wall and she wraps her thighs around his hips reflexively. He can feel her dripping down onto his balls but she's still very tight around him. She grins with satisfaction as he starts to lift her up with each thrust. She's looking down at him now. Then her face is wrinkling up again, one, two, three thrusts is all it takes for her to go from smile to tortured come-face, her mouth a pursed O, silently screaming. Her thighs tighten around him as she comes, her little nods curtly affirmative.

Zaeed doesn't think he's even half-way there yet, himself. It's barely been an effort for him so far, although they're nicely hot and sheened with sweat. He's aware that something special is happening here. It may be chance that threw them together but he's definitely exactly what she needs right now. So far she seems to have been utterly focused on her own pleasure, and probably expects him to be the same way.

So with an effort of will he slows right down. This time he manages to get her upper arms in his hands and push her elbows back against the wall. He wants her desperate. She frowns a little, struggles, but she's pinned fast and has no purchase. He consciously works his pelvic floor and feels her throb against him in sympathy. She tries to wriggle down on his cock, to get it right inside her, but he keeps their hips apart. Finally she makes a noise, a little sound of frustration. "That's right, love," he tells her. "Work for it."

He sees her flip from frustration to anger in the space of a second and he wonders if he's pushed her too far too fast. He releases her arms to see what she'll do. She tries to pull off some kind of gymnastic combination, levering herself off the wall and pulling her legs in and up.

Zaeed grabs her by the waist and yanks her off balance and back onto his cock. He slaps her once across the face, not hard. "Stop fucking about," he tells her. Her eyes burn into him. She's a fetching shade of overheated pink all over. He's enjoying this.

"Then get back to fucking," she replies, not in the least intimidated.

He carries her back to the bed, collapses on top of her and then gives in to the animal. She remains so very tight around his dick. She fumes for a few strokes before she starts to get back into it, thrusting up to meet him, arching her back and wrapping her ankles around his legs. Finally he gets to pin her the way he wants to, hands just above her head. It's not that the fight's gone out of her, it's more that they've moved on to a different arena. He can feel her trying to clamp her muscles down on his dick, trying to slow him down as much as possible. She's doing well for a beginner.

At the same time she's turning brighter and brighter shades. She's started to make involuntary noises, gasps and moans. He's wearing her down. She comes again, shuddering through it as he continues to pound her, and after that she's his. By turns pleading and bossy, her whispers turn into full throated cries. "Yes, come on, harder, fuck, yes, yes, like that, please, please, fuck, FUCK!"

She muffles herself by burying her teeth into his shoulder and it isn't long before he's making his own absurd face while they both teeter for a long moment before their climax. Zaeed puts a hand on her throat and gives it a squeeze. She thrashes her limbs and slaps him open-handed on the side of his head and then he's unloading, and she's forcing a rasping scream past his fist, and then it's over.

"Where'd you learn to fight?" Zaeed offers her a cigarette, which she accepts with a nod. They're sprawled, partly clothed, sated.

"Alliance," she replies lazily. "Joined up. Saw the galaxy. Didn't know my parents."

"Did I ask for a fucking biography?" says Zaeed, taking the lit ciggie from her and having a puff. He's almost smiling, though, and she can see that. "Not bad for a first time, though. The Alliance teach you those moves too?"

She grabs his pack and lights her own, then waves away the first cloud of smoke. "Nah. Hymen grew back."

"It's gone again now," says Zaeed. A little smugly.

"The whole point," she replies.

"You got a name?"

"Shepard."

"Funny name for a girl."

"Not my first."

"We already established that."

"Not my first _name_."

"You changed it? When you got a new hymen?"

She rolls her eyes, then she rolls over to sit on him. She lowers her face to his. "Fucking Brits," she says, but without rancor. She slides back and lets her wet slit slip along his cock. There's a little blood and it must be painful, but she doesn't seem to have fully sated herself yet.

His cock rises again, beyond his control, and then he's inside her. Their movements are slower this time, more about strength than speed. She rises above him, back arched and thighs tensed, clenching her muscles hard against the pull of his arms at her waist. She lets herself be pulled onto him aching slowly, then just as slowly pushes off.

Zaeed is helpless. Clearly it was about her needs before. Now she's totally focused on him, and he's never been with a woman so controlled before. He was kidding himself if he thought he could ever make her come unstuck if she didn't want it. He gets so hard he can hardly see out of his one good eye. She drags his orgasm out of him, edging him for a good long while before a final triumphant wriggle. Her own climax looks intensely satisfying, but she keeps it tightly under wraps, just a batting of the eyelids and a snort of air through her nose letting him know that she's coming.

She settles down on him, her lips at his ear, and whispers. She tells him her name.

His blood runs cold with the shock of recognition. He once knew a woman by that name. As the memories come trickling back, he sees her squeezed tightly beneath him, her brow wrinkled and her lips pursed in concentration. He knows that something strange and terrible has just happened. He's absolutely certain.

He considers briefly hitting the bottle as hard as he knows how in the hopes of inducing short-term memory loss. He knows it would be futile, though. The sex he's just had ranks among the best he's ever had. It was like she knew just how his body would respond already, and she got off on all his favorite moves too. It won't be that easy to forget fucking the daughter he never knew he had.

Now that he knows he can't stop looking at her. He wonders if there's anything of him in there or if the Alliance training wiped it all out. He hopes so.

He remembers the Cerberus offer and a placid calm settles over him. A suicide mission sounds about right, now.


End file.
